


A Sunny Place

by rLTigeR



Category: K-pop, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rLTigeR/pseuds/rLTigeR
Summary: Irene has a secret, and Wendy isn't sure if she wants to know what it is.





	

“Please don’t forgive me. Please. I don’t deserve it.” She begs. Irene. My girlfriend, Irene. She had betrayed me, and the only reason I ever found out was of my own doing. She would’ve never outright told me; we both know that. I’m inclined to agree with her. That she doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. But when I think back, certain things she happened to say (that I thought nothing more of than an odd slip of the tongue at the time) stood out to me. Faces full of barely concealed guilt that I should’ve noticed. Hidden meanings behind words she whispered to me during intimate moments.

She wanted me to find out, all along.

_We first met at a supermarket._

_I browse through the fruit isle, searching for something special to make for dinner to congratulate myself on completing the first year of training to be a nurse. It’s incredibly hard work, but it’s worth it. My parents would be proud of me, and that’s what keeps me going._

_“Hi.”_

_I look up in shock at the unexpected interaction, wondering if I’m the intended target for the greeting. A woman is standing across from me, her pretty eyes glued to mine._

_I’m confused, but I don’t want to be rude. Maybe she’s just being friendly. “Hello.” I smile politely._

_I don’t expect it to go beyond that, so I’m surprised when she doesn’t take her eyes off me. Hopefully she needs to say something else, and she isn’t just being creepy. I try to look expectant._

_“I’m Irene.” Thankfully my prayers were somewhat answered, although it’s still not clear what she wants._

_“I’m Wendy.” At my answer she seems almost relieved, but that brief expression quickly changes to determination._

_“Would you like to go out for dinner with me sometime, Wendy?” A nervous smile graces her almost angelic face, and I have to remind myself that even outwardly beautiful people can do bad things, even though she seems harmless so far._

_With this in mind, we exchange phone numbers, and when she texts me for a date location I make sure to pick a very public place, just in case._

_\---_

_One date turned into two, two to three, and so on. I’d never met someone like her. So soft-spoken, humble, caring…everything I valued in a significant other. She was perfect in my eyes._

_The further the relationship deepened, the sadder Irene became. When I talked about my past, she’d change the subject. If I chose to ignore her obvious discomfort and continue (I wanted her to know me like I thought I knew her), she’d get angry and clam up for weeks until I dropped it._

_Despite this, I loved her. And she loved me. I knew something was wrong, but I was too scared to force her to tell me what it was. I probably could’ve if I pressured her enough. But I chose to give up, that’d she’d tell me when she was ready. She never did._

_Sometimes when we went to visit Irene’s parents, she’d burst into tears, finding solace in the embraces of her mother and father. We were all worried, but she never explained it and we were too afraid to ask._

_Eventually she agreed to see a therapist. After multiple sessions of Irene just crying her eyes out the whole time, the therapist suggested antidepressants. Irene refused. She said, “I need to feel this. I can’t cheat my way out of it.” She convinced me to let her cancel the sessions the next day._

_We’re five years into our relationship before I figure out what she’s been hiding for so long._

_\---_

_She killed my parents. Her mother unknowingly let it slip when she demanded to know what was wrong during a visit to her house. I was in the bathroom, but the conversation wasn’t as quiet as they thought._

_“Are you getting sad again over the accident again? It was your fault, admittedly, but you’ve felt bad enough for it already. You were young and stupid. You can’t let this ruin your life. I’m sure, wherever she is, that the girl is doing fine.”_

_“Her parents are dead because of me! I’ve ruined the life she could’ve had with them—isn’t it right that what I did is in the forefront of my mind for the rest of mine? Even if she’s ‘fine’.”_

_I wait until they’re finished to return to the table. I only confront Irene once we’re safely home._

_At my accusatory words, she begins to sob with a huge smile on her face. Like she’s devastated yet so happy that I’ve finally found out._

_I ask her why, I plead with her to explain herself, that it wasn’t my parents she killed, that they were someone else’s. But deep down I knew._

_According to her, she was drawn to me in the supermarket. She recognized me. When I talked to her and I even sounded genuinely happy, she was relieved. She planned to tell me that she killed my parents over dinner, but she realized that it was selfish of her, to remind me of it and burden me with the information that the one responsible for their deaths was right in front of me. So she decided to just be my friend, to support me no matter what. But she developed feelings for me, and felt guilty that I even returned the same feelings since I still didn’t know her biggest secret. But at that point she said she was too scared, that she relied on my love too much while at the same time was hurt by it._

_I remember my parents’ deaths like it was yesterday. My parents were driving me home from a friend’s birthday party when something hit us from the side. After the car was satisfied with its path of destruction, I was the only one in the car who was moving. As the paramedics came, I only got a glimpse of the person in the other car. A shaken teenage girl._

_\---_

“Please don’t forgive me. Please. I don’t deserve it.”

I want to hate her, and maybe I do a little bit. What would my parents want? I don’t know. The ‘moral’ thing to do is to hate her, kick her out of my life, right? That’s what I think would be the most traveled road in this situation. But my gut—my heart—thinks the opposite. My whole being is asking me to forgive her. Though, is it selfish to do as I please and not as Irene is asking me? It’s her life too. I’ve never been so conflicted in my life, so I just make the best decision I can in the moment.

“I forgive you.”

Irene is baffled. Teary, wide eyes stare back at me, like a much more pathetic version of the day we first met. “Really?” She asks hesitantly, anxiety written all over her body language.

I try to be as reassuring as I can. “That doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you, but yes, I forgive you.” A smile fights its way onto my face.

“Can I hug you?” She asks, practically running into my arms when I hold them out for her.

Maybe we’ll be okay.

\---

Things were fine for about two weeks after that (about as fine as they could get). It didn’t last long before it reverted back to the same guilty Irene who felt like she was taking advantage of my generosity. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t. Every day it seemed like she got more and more depressed. She stopped going to work. I didn’t know whether breaking up with her would help or hurt at that point.

A couple months later, I came home to a completely silent house. Irene, lifeless, was sprawled on the bed, looking more relaxed than I’d ever seen her.

\---

Beside her body lies a note, a message scrawled on it in familiar purple handwriting. I pick it up in shaking hands, not really wanting to read it but knowing I’ll be forever regretful if I don’t. A measly four sentences are the last words I ever get from Irene, the woman I will always love dearly. The first person to ever hold my heart completely in her clutches. And the first to squeeze it until there was nothing left.

_“I’m sorry to hurt you one last time. It’s for the best, isn’t it? You’ve always deserved better than someone like me. I love you.”_

“Selfish to the end…” I whisper, hoping my desperate laughter will make the tears less painful.

**Author's Note:**

> this might be disjointed/a mess, and I should’ve worked on other stuff instead, but I couldn’t let this sudden influx of ideas go to waste. Sorry it was so depressing. I got the inspiration after I finished a visual novel that I really enjoyed called Nurse Love Addiction. Some of the endings were quite fucked up and I was kinda sad after finishing it so that’s probably why this is the way it is.


End file.
